San Felice in Piazza a Firenze Book

This is an account of how the monument that human ingenuity could build to itself came into being.

During the 13C the prosperous Florence deemed that its small Cathedral needed more than just more repairs. Santa Reparata was then demolished and a new and considerably larger building was commissioned to Arnolfo di Cambio, the architect who had already designed other pleasing churches in the city. The new Cathedral would also drop its no longer suitable old name and take on the radiant designation of Santa Maria del Fiore. Work began at the turn of the century but soon came to a halt when its designer passed away. More unfortunate events followed and it was not until the very strong and wealthy Arte de la Lana (the Guild of Wool Merchants) undertook to give its completion a new push.

That it would have to be such a guild the one who could spin stone out of yarn should be of no surprise. The wealth of the city was based on the turning around and trading such golden fleece.

During the calamitous 14C the fortunes of the Cathedral went through more ups and downs. Giotto and Pisano were there and helped; the Black Death walked its scimitar; other architects like Orcagna and Neri di Fioravante followed and considerably modified the original plan. About one hundred years after it was begun, it was nearly finished.

Except for its Dome.

When the design was altered the model proposed by Neri di Fioravante had won the day. It was so very attractive because it seemed so very Italian. It would have a huge Dome (reminiscences of the glorious Roman past?) and would have no ugly external Gothic (barbarian) buttresses.

What had not yet been resolved was how something of the sort could be built?

Its size and its elevation on relatively thin walls, were unprecedented. A cross view comparing it to the also baffling Roman Pantheon speaks better than many words.





Ross devotes this book to tracking how such a solution was forged. And the story is fascinating. He starts with the Competition that again the Arte de la Lana, who was still spinning the functioning of the city, opened up to the public. He expands on the rivalry between the two geniuses who have become the most famous contenders of the Italian Renaissance. Ghiberti and Brunelleschi had to measure each other up repeatedly during those years, first with the Baptistery doors and then with any new of the many commissions that were stemming out of that vibrant city. These two had the required invective and dexterous mind.

Ross then proceeds to tell us how Brunelleschi solved the problems similarly to the way Brunelleschi himself revealed them. That is, gradually: stone-by-stone, or chapter-by-chapter. If Brunelleschi feared plagiarism, Ross seems concerned with losing the narrative interest.

Ross then does not present the architectural scheme as it stands, and he prefers to unveil in installments about what made the dome possible: the double shells; the inadequacy of wood centering; the octagonal crossings and ribs; the pointed fifth arch; the side chains as braces around the ribs; variation in the density of materials; the herringbone brickwork; internal trusses, etc. This approach has somewhat dampened a clear representation of how it all holds together. But in so doing Ross succeeds in showing how each small advance was fraught with difficulty and considerable danger. He engagingly elaborates on these temporary uncertainties, obstacles and technological problems and on the very many additional ingenious solutions that Brunelleschi devised.

For these were not just a few. All the practicalities in the actual building, to the smallest detail, had to be contended by Brunelleschi, the capo maestro. He devised his ox-hoist; the Castello or novel crane; the lantern hoist; the hidden staircase in between the double shell, amongst others. Brunelleschi’s training in clock making clearly helped him to keep his pace.








For he finished it. He also had time to design the Lantern as well, although he did not see its completion since he died soon after it was begun, in 1446.

The ceremony of its consecration has also passed into history. The population felt as if they were witnessing a miracle. The heavenly motet that Guillaume Dufay composed especially for this occasion, Nupem Rosarum Flores, must have been conducive for the mystical reception in the congregation.

Later, the celestial frescoes designed by Giorgio Vasari completed the embellishment of such a realized impossibility.




And even if Ross’ writing reminded me somewhat of the style of guidebooks, or had the taste of isolated research, or irritated at times for not giving more of the original Italian names and adapting the material too much for an easy reading, he does succeed in bringing forth Brunelleschi’s extraordinary achievement.

Apart from all the technical details and all the circumstantial considerations, what this Dome by Brunelleschi proves to us is that there was new faith in the power of the individual who had a complete confidence in his own human capabilities.

It was not just the Dome; it was that conviction of himself and of his own ingenuity that was so very new.


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And if any one feels like climbing up the more than 450 steps of the dome from his/her armchair, there is is this fun video by someone who got inspired by this very book...